Kinesis
by TroubleInWoodsboro
Summary: I'm Sara Lehane and I'm "gifted" with the power of telekinesis. But as I've grown older, I've found it hard to keep her powers under control. It was only the matter of time before my ability got the better of me.
1. Intro Part 1

I discovered my power when I was eight years old.

It was the first time I had ever been angry. Well, not the very first time in my life. I had threw a good few tantrums as a kid, but this was the first time that I really lost my shit.

My friend Bridgette and I were in class. It was recess and the teacher was letting us stay inside to paint because it was our favorite activity. We had my Barbies sitting around, ready to play with in between strokes of the brush on our large sheets of white paper. Bridgette reached over and picked up my favourite Barbie that I named Lana after my mom's favorite actress, Lana Turner. She turned it upside down and dipped her hair into a jar of paint.

I could feel the anger boiling up inside of me. My limbs were shaking and it felt like my brain was pulsing along with the increasing beat of my heart. I clenched my fists until my fingernails dug into the palm of my hands and when I flexed them, Bridgette was launched backwards off her chair.

She went flying, crashing into the wall covered in drawings, leaving Lana on the floor beside me with her newly blue dip-dyed hair – which, right now, is a fashionable thing in which I even done myself to improve the new grunge look I was going for.

Anyway, Bridgette ended up breaking her right arm and when the teacher came in, responding to her screams of pain – or horror, or both even – she was as puzzled as we were as to what happened.

Bridgette started shouting that I made her fly and the teacher instantly thought that I must have pushed her. Afterwards, I was expelled for two days. Yeah, eight years old and being expelled from school.

That was when I discovered my telekinetic powers.

Over the years, I used my powers for shits and giggles. I used to move people's things in class, pull away the teacher's chair before she sat down and other stuff that would give me and the class a laugh. That's when the rumors of the school being haunted started up. Of course, I used my powers at home to freak out my little sister and my mom. I had some great times doing that.

No one in my family knew of my power. I felt like telling my mom plenty of times, but I was afraid that she'd put me in the place I'm in as I write this right now. But my friends knew. They thought it was cool and always dared me to do wacky stuff that would mess with people's minds. Ever saw the movie _Chronicle_? Yeah, stuff like that. Except I couldn't fly.

But as I got older, my powers got the better of me.

I killed a lot of people. Hundreds, even.

My whole town to be exact.

I'm Sara Lehane, 18 years old, and I've been dubbed, "The New Carrie White."


	2. Intro Part 2

I wasn't exactly the most popular girl at high school. I mean, I wasn't the complete rejected outcast that had no friends. Like Carrie White, for example. People liked me. They didn't love me and put me on this pedestal to worship me. I was cool. So were my friends. So, we never really had a lot of haters. I know, it sounds a little conceded, but it's true.

Most of the kids that attended Weston High were pretty cool anyway. There were only a handful of geeks, outcasts and bitchy cheerleaders, but hey, high school wouldn't be high school without 'em.

One of those bitchy cheerleaders happened to be Bridgette. And she still hated me for breaking her arm. She used to tell people how I was freak and that they should stay away, but no one listened to her. I was just too cool for people to dislike me because Bridgette said so.

God, I am so conceded.

Anyway, not many people like Bridgette. She was notorious for "fucking and chucking" guys at Weston. So, she had a reputation that even some teachers knew about. Some of her friends didn't even like her. But she was too busy obsessing over herself and finding a guy to screw at the weekends to pay any attention to what people were saying about her. But she didn't care. That's one thing Bridgette and I had in common. We simply didn't give a fuck. Except, I had a heart and she didn't.

You, the person who is reading this is probably questioning me in saying that. But what I did was – in part – not my fault. And you'll know once we get further into my story.


End file.
